Fiction

IN ANOTHER LIFE, I AM A DIRECT DESCENDANT OF SHARKS by Bethany Cutkomp

October 30, 2025

And if I do not keep moving, I will pass away. They call this ram ventilation, a shark’s way of breathing. My invisible gills demand the same method of survival. Since hatching from your womb, I have been burdened to forward momentum, a squirming force to be reckoned with. Raised in a realm above sea-level, however, the current has always worked against my nature. Most mornings, you barely squeeze in the chance to slather sunscreen over my ampullae of Lorenzini—freckles, you insist I call them—before I’m out of the door and down the street, bike pedals whirling, thrusting through the

THE DEN by Andy Bodinger

October 29, 2025

I’d been in the Midwest a month. I had stepped off the Greyhound with clothing, toiletries, documents, and a cremation urn, which I kept my savings in. The locals considered my new town dead. At first, I disagreed. Or, I figured at least, if it was dead, its corpse was flowering. Everything I needed was within the grid of a few blocks. Connecticut was unwalkable, nothing more than tree-lined roadways connecting one muddy village to the next. Soon, however, I ended up bored out of my mind, never imagining that I could do everything right and be so listless. One

DARRIN DOYLE RECOMMENDS: EIGHT BOOKS OF FICTION THAT EVOKE THE LIMINAL

October 28, 2025

Opening your eyes at night, unsure of where you are, half-dreaming, half-awake…staring into the darkness of a living room, thinking that the shadow near the door might be a man…or a coat rack… the tremble along your spine as you hear the voice of a deceased loved one on your voicemail…the uncanny sight of a mannequin that may or may not be a living person. We all know that sense of dread that comes from uncertainty during transitional moments, as well as the relief we feel once we settle into the known. Below are a list of fiction books that

STRANGE IS THE MEAT by Brittany Terwilliger

October 27, 2025

As his bolt pierced the deer’s flesh, Nathan felt himself reduce, his body contracting into a dark, wet mass. He clenched against the blinding light, choking on snorts as he plopped onto a leafy patch of moss and lay feeble and disoriented. Something licked him, eyes darting. Liquid warmth filled his mouth, his belly. He drifted off to sleep. His mother (but that wasn’t his mother! His mother was a chain smoker with Betty White hair) nudged him to stand. And he found that he could, although he didn’t want to. He preferred his leafy bed, the green smell of

ADVENTURERS by Z.H. Gill

October 24, 2025

Yo ho ho, adventurers, but beware: Poisonaut Buccaneers are pillaging the Indigo Coast! But Quartermaster Zabbrock’s informant has the coordinates to their secret base…Can you weather the pirate lair’s toxic traps? Damnèdfall Ship Grave is now open to bands of powerful and well-equipped adventurers! [Welcome to Version 2.32 – Full patch notes available online.] [Family filter is TURNED OFF.] [1. Auroradread Mountains – General] [Fabianette]: lfg heroic auroradread sepulcher looking for two more (cc + heals) [Order] [Evanstone]: yessssssssss [Order] [Evanstone]: almost friday bb!!! [Order] [Rivola]: friday the 13th even!!!!!!!!! [Order] [Aizar]: ki ki ki ma ma ma [Order] [Rivola]:

BELLYBUTTON BABY by Dilys Wyndham Thomas

October 23, 2025

I have this recurring nightmare in which I swim through amniotic fluid. Poppies litter the fluid, and a baby is lost somewhere amongst all the falling flowers, out of reach, beyond my thrashing hands. To keep the nightmare at bay, I lay awake in yet another hotel room, avoiding sleep. The man in bed with me has his back turned, constellations of freckles scattered on sunburnt skin. It’s obvious from the way his body teeters on the edge of the mattress that he has decided I am a one-night stand. I run my fingers along the map that is this

MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE PROJECTING ACROSS THE UNIVERSE IN BILLOWS OF GLITTER, CONFETTI, AND FLUSTERED GIGGLES by Sophie Kearing

October 22, 2025

At the intersection between the Many-Worlds Interpretation and the Law of Assumption, you can bow out of the shitty life you’ve created for yourself and slip into an existence that’s basically your own personal heaven. People call this place your “desired reality.” Let me give you some reference points here. In my old reality, moving house was always an exercise in abject misery. But. Let me tell you how things unfolded after one night I used the “state akin to sleep” to visualize stepping through a doorway into a magical world of miracles and ease. On Monday morning I received

THE BACKYARD GRAVE by Marina Manoukian

October 20, 2025

My father dug his own grave. But he didn’t use it right away. For years, the grave lay unfilled and inviting. All he would do was visit it once in a while, stand by its empty feet, and sigh. I don’t know if it was a sigh of relief or impatience. He made us promise to leave the grave unmarked once everything was in its place. Everything has its place. I slept in the grave once. But not on purpose. It’s ill-advised to read meaning into sleepwalking so I won’t try. All I know is that I woke up surrounded

A PRAYER FOR THE FISH IN THE TUB by Zoë Rose

October 16, 2025

With just enough water in the tub to sluice through its gills as it thumps its caudal fin and arches its spine the carp could stay there for far longer than it will take to prepare the vegetables for the stock which the carp’s head and bones and skin and any parts not reserved will be joining the next morning. Its jelly eye fixes on the water stained ceiling which it doesn’t see as anything but part of what is above because the carp has never seen water stain or been even wet before the tub. When its head seizes

ONLY THE SCAMMERS LOVE SAM by Jon Steinhagen

October 13, 2025

“That’s wonderful, Sam,” the voice says, cooing. “May I call you Sam?” The voice is low, mellow, musical. The English it speaks is careful, cultured, unhurried, seductive (or so Sam thinks; he’s become a connoisseur over the years). Its tone is polite and comforting with just an edge of anticipation. Normally, this voice has rarely been given the freedom to speak so much, to reel off so many carefully-edited chunks of information. It senses an ultimate victory. “Sam, or Sammy,” Sam says. “That’s wonderful, Sam,” the voice repeats. “Now, all you have to do—” “My mother used to call me